


Soft as a Whisper

by magicianlogician12



Series: You, Me, and the Sea [5]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicianlogician12/pseuds/magicianlogician12
Summary: The Alliance prepares to march on Dazar'alor. Jaina does her best to settle her nerves, and finds comfort from an unlikely source.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Original Female Character(s)
Series: You, Me, and the Sea [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832245
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Soft as a Whisper

Nazmir is nothing if not disconcerting.

The swamp itself would be bad enough on its own, the humidity amplified tenfold with the bone-chilling fog from the Abyssal Scepter clouding the air, but that alone does not account for the hollow, earthy sound of marsh rushes swaying in the air, and on the distant winds, the eerie sound of blood trolls chanting, setting a discordant, unsettling rhythm that collides with Jaina’s quiet resolve.

It’s enough to send a chill down her spine.

Telaamon, Captain Shadeweaver, and the Archdruid are out there somewhere, Jaina knows, clearing the way for the Alliance forces that remain. Slayer Felseeker is already present, her warglaives coated in half-dried blood and her dark hair drifting freely in the wind. She’d already given her report the moment she’d glided into Jaina’s midst on fel wings, so now, they are left to wait.

Minutes drag on, and the cold stone of dread in Jaina’s stomach grows heavier. Fretting changes nothing, she knows, but some part of her, restless from the sounds of the marsh beyond, can’t help it.

At the very least, she knows sending her water elemental with Captain Shadeweaver was the right call. Archdruid Dawnlance is powerful in her own right, and Slayer Felseeker has the advantage of demonic energies, but Captain Shadeweaver is little more than a luck-bound rogue, a cutlass-wielding cutpurse with more daring than sense, it seems. She sent the elemental with the captain only to ensure their final success.

Certainly not because she was terrified of the alternative.

A flash of movement catches Jaina’s eye, and she spies the edges of a rough silhouette through the mist–in a few seconds it resolves itself into Jaina’s water elemental…and Captain Shadeweaver, who appears to be riding atop it almost as though she was  _ surfing _ across its surface.

Torn between a relieved, exasperated eye-roll and a more professional greeting, Jaina opts for the latter. “Captain, did you encounter any difficulties on your way here?”

“No. Nothing besides the expected difficulties, at least.” Captain Shadeweaver leans over from where she stands atop the water elemental, raising her long, violet brows innocently. “Why? Am I late?”

Felseeker snorts. “Only you could joke about being late to a full-field battle, Captain.”

“ _ Someone _ has to make the jokes around here.” Captain Shadeweaver grins as she jumps off the elemental’s back, landing hard enough that her hand brushes against Jaina’s own, and it was only with a concerted effort she was able to squash the sudden, light feeling of airiness the brief touch provoked before it was noticed. It had been unintentional, and this was not the place to let her increasingly complicated feelings for Captain Shadeweaver take priority.

“Then we’re just waiting for Relle and Telaamon, now.” Felseeker examines one of her glaives. “Relle may have had to take the long way, if she’s flying and doesn’t want to be noticed. Can’t imagine her flying through  _ this _ , though. I’m going to make sure we won’t be surprised by anything out there while the mist is a factor. Don’t get up to too much trouble while I’m gone.”

And with that, Felseeker takes a running jump before letting her fel wings expand, and they carry her silently off into the murk.

“Been quiet here so far?” Captain Shadeweaver asks, and part of Jaina is relieved for the sound–anything to replace the swamp’s uneasy rhythm.

“Quiet enough, for what we expected.” she holds her staff in one hand, letting its end rest in the muck. “Though I don’t expect that to hold for long, once the Horde realizes what we’ve done.”

“It’ll hold for long enough.” she says, without hesitation, and Jaina’s release of breath in response is something between a sigh of resigned acceptance and a baffled huff.

“I wish I had your confidence.” she finds herself saying, and then the silence sits once more, empty and unsettling.

There’s a shift of air at Jaina’s left, but before she can turn her head to investigate, a hand wraps itself around hers, and when she does turn, all she sees is Captain Shadeweaver’s blind side, but she speaks anyway. “Either it’ll work or it won’t, Proudmoore. If it works, we’ve done our jobs. If it doesn’t, we’ll handle the consequences.”

Captain Shadeweaver’s hand is warm, larger than Jaina’s own with longer fingers that wrap easily around hers, and her grip is strong, grounding. It doesn’t provoke the same nervous feeling that an accidental brush just moments ago did, rather the opposite, and this still isn’t the place or the time to dissect why but Captain Shadeweaver–Miri–hasn’t pulled her hand back, and Jaina lets the touch take some of the heavy dread from her spine.

“It’s not always that easy,” she finally tells Miri in response.

“Of course it’s not.” Miri does turn her head this time, fixing Jaina with a steady look from her single remaining eye, glowing a faint, starlit blue-white. Her lip twitches up like she wants to grin, but it stays somehow neutrally soft instead. “But personally, I’d rather not run myself into an early grave tormenting myself with the ‘what ifs’.”

Jaina doesn’t respond this time, and she expects Miri to take her hand back now that she’s said her piece, but she doesn’t, her fingers squeezing once, tightly, before relaxing.

She doesn’t let go until the sound of wings heralds both Slayer Felseeker and Archdruid Dawnlance’s arrival, the latter soaring in as an owl before returning to her given form, indigo hair out of sorts, but otherwise unharmed. Telaamon joins them shortly after, and nothing stops them from proceeding as planned. For now.

_ Either it’ll work or it won’t, Proudmoore. _

Jaina turns to where Captain Shadeweaver is in the midst of hoisting herself up atop one of their captured direhorns, and catches the captain’s eye. She beams, and Jaina can’t help but smile back, weak and thready, weighed down by the dread that hasn’t left her completely.

But Jaina flexes her hand, the one the captain held, and the warmth that remains takes the worst of its edge from her bones.


End file.
